I do not own anything here! Its all Tolkien!
Let's see if I can do this then
Fili and Kili were standing at the doorway that led into a dimly lit room in the heart of the Lonely Mountain. Their eyes swept over the piles of carefully arranged gold, gems and precious metals that towered all around and were placed together in a manner distinctly reminisce of the piles of gold and treasure that drove the old king mad. Only instead of the precious stone, resting over the brow of the dwarven ruler it was the small form in the middle of the lavish bed, situated in center of the adobe. Kili clutched his belt tighter as his gaze rested on the body of their burglar, a one Mr. Bilbo Baggins. Oh, what he wouldn't give to have the small hobbit open his eyes, fluster about, and try to be helpful again. But alas, for several days now, there has been not a twitch from him, and all they saw was the ever increasing decorations of most precious and exotic materials around him. Bilbo was dressed in the fine white shirt with silken ties, soft breeches, and a warm blue coat with golden fur trimming, as he rested his head on the pillows of the bed. He was covered with throws of some of the best fur that Fili and Kili has ever seen, and at his feet laid rolls of silks and velvet. The hobbit looked as though he was the crown jewel of the king's coffers and as the two young dwarves shifted to look at the form that stood next to his bed, they couldn't help but think that he was.
Thorin was looking the hobbit with a look neither brother could decipher, but his eyes did not leave the other's face even for a moment, and his hand continued to trickle dozen of small gems over his nest of curls. His task finished, Thorin stepped back to look at the finished result. His burglar looked like a precious commodity, the most distinguished treasure, one to never be let go of. And now with his hair glittering softly under the flicker of the candle light, he truly looked as though he belonged in his treasury. Thorin lifted his hand to touch the smaller being, but it hovered without reaching its destination. How could he touch something so beautiful and fragile? This being already saved him more times than he could count, and how did he repay him? By landing him injured and asleep in the middle of the battlefield, while Thorin was too busy looking for that thrice damned stone! The hobbit proved himself to be most capable when he has thrown himself boldly in front of the dwarf to protect him from the orc; he has saved the whole company from the nest of giant spiders, showing to everyone that he knew how to use the "letter-opener" of his; he has displayed cunning and stealth by freeing the whole company from the dungeons of Thranduil, and so many other times had he been the reason for one of the members of the company, or Thorin himself to be alive right now. And yet, none of them were able to protect him at his hour of need, and make sure that he was safe and unhurt. Well no more! Thorin finally lowered his hand so it rested within inched of the sleeping hobbit's face, imagining the heat of the body next to his seeping into his fingers. He was safe now, and no one or nothing would ever come even close to harming his treasure.
The King Under the Mountain turned and eyes his nephews, who were both looking at the room around him. They had the right to be impressed. Thorin scouted half the Mountain, in search of the best and most prized of the treasures saved there, and had them moved to this chamber, he has arranged everything to look its best, and then in the dead of the night, brought the hobbit in, and settled him in the silken linens, and fur throws, and golden casings. He would keep Bilbo safe, and away from harm, and away from those who would try to take him away. The burglar was his greatest treasure now, and he would be damned if anyone tried to deny him.